A Roaring Wind
by GeeksGeeks
Summary: Every year hundreds of eligible students leave their homes to attend Hogwarts, but what about those who were magical and never found? An original story in the world that crosses from muggle to wizard far later than the age of 11. New characters, old favorites, new daring adventures. Rated T for adult language.
1. Chapter 1

**Characters/themes from the Harry Potter universe remain the trademarks of J.K. Rowling. Use is strictly of an inspirational nature.**

 **Chapter 1:**

 **Hard Times**

Time was running out.

The chill night air beat against his face as he ran, cutting like dull knives, carving out the lines of his already fear-stricken face. Echoes of his boots splashing through trash-filled puddles in the ever-cluttered DC alleyway bounced and reverberated off the walls, rusted dumpsters and fire escapes, and broken down cars like a siren announcing his position. As he sprinted he strained to hear anything over the echo of the alley and the busy street noise from H Street and 12th Street a couple blocks away- a yell, a scuffling of feet, any sign to alert him that his pursuers were as close as his mind made him believe. His heart pounded against his chest, thrumming the same beat as his shoes winding through the alleyway's twists and turns. Risking a look back, he glanced furtively over his left shoulder, then his world toppled dangerously as he tripped head over on a stray milk crate hidden in the mud, smacking his head and side on the unforgiving pavement. Groaning from the deafening throb in his head, he rolled over as best he could using his arm as leverage to get the ground back under him.

 _Well, this is fucking great_ , he thought, as he struggled to move his right arm; pain coursed through from the shoulder to his finger tips. He tried to lift it a fraction of an inch, only to hiss at the blinding, white-hot pain. _I can't even protect myself anymore._ He rolled, somehow, onto his hand and knees; panting, shaking from cold, fear, and the water soaking into the knees of his jeans, he spotted his reflection in the puddle caught by the cracked alley light above him.

A strangers face stared back at him. Yes, there was the familiar slightly large nose, the shaggy thick brown hair hanging over his forehead, the "Ben Franklin" glasses he was so playfully teased about by his girlfriend, the strangely vibrant red beard that had been ever present since he could grow peach fuzz, and the permanent neutrals that made up the color palette of his wardrobe. What Iain didn't recognize, and what struck him, was the _weight_ that had marked his face; the eyes no longer a deep vibrant blue but a dull sea grey, ringed by red. The lines so deep on his forehead that it almost seemed scarred. His round prominent cheeks diminished to razors edges as his jowls receded inward, giving him a drawn stressed look, almost as if he was going through withdrawal. The pervasive smirk he had worn over the years, both as a means of gaining allies and garnering walls against possible enemies had been replaced by a tight line as if a sharpie had been clumsily slashed across his skin, leaving a crooked definitive mark. This was the face of someone who had seen their demons come screaming out into the open; someone who had made a bad decision and had paid dearly for the consequences. As he looked, what alarmed him more was the somewhat smaller face of one of the dealers looking down over him at his reflection as well.

The kick came suddenly; it lifted him out of his crouch completely past the puddle and onto his right shoulder with a sickening crunch, blinding him with so much pain he couldn't even scream. Iain rolled onto his back instinctively, anything to get the pressure off of his shoulder as the dealer strode towards him.

"That hurt?" man asked, sneering at Iain twitching on the ground. "Good. Bet it feels close to how bad my man's head feels after you smashed it into the brick. We just wanted to... _talk_ to you, and you gotta go do something like that, after the first time?" Iain instinctively grabbed for his shoulder, and then man tilted is head quizzically. "Oh, your shoulder busted, little man?"

"Fuck off," Iain seethed through clenched teeth. _Nah, that's great. Piss him off some more, I'm sure that'll work beautifully._

"Fuck o- fuck off?! You motherfucker!" the man screamed, bringing his foot down on Iain's shoulder. He screamed then. "Who do you think you're fucking with, some shitkicking drugdie scum? This is the big leagues, motherfucker!" the man shrieked as he brought his foot down again and again on Iain's shoulder, hitting it so hard all Iain wanted was for his arm to break off; anything to get rid of the pain. Iain spat at him.

The man suddenly reached down for Iain's arm, wanting to demolish more than just his shoulder. Iain involuntary tried to pull his arm out of the man's vice grip and suddenly the thought flashed bright in his mind; he swiftly pushed his shoulder towards the man and he heard a loud crunching pop, accompanied by instant relief from the agonizing pain. Iain yanked his arm out of the man's hand, simultaneously kicking wildly; astonishingly to both him and his assailant the kick connected, sending the man tumbling and pinwheeling backwards. Iain scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, hoping to dash back down the alley before- nope, the man had found his breath and was on his way back up.

Iain finally breathed then, if only to gather his breath to sputter the incantation- his hand, of it's own accord, had reached deep into the fold of his jacket and had grasped the surprisingly swishy thin strip of driftwood, fourteen and a half inches long, that had hidden inside. It was an absolutely terrible idea, one that despite the leverage it would give him immediately was still remarkably stupid given a thrumming city center was almost beside them. But he had grabbed anyway, and without hesitation. It seemed almost as if it was vibrating in his palm, gleeful; thrilled to be used, giving it's master the upper hand in what apparently was a losing battle.

" _PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!_ " Iain roared. There was no light, but a sound like a whip cracked in the alley sharp and brutal, deafening him for a second. The man went stiff as a board, and Iain couldn't help but snort at the man's ridiculous look of shock and fear.

"I just remembered that one. Isn't that crazy?" Iain limped over to the man slowly, never taking his eyes of the dealer's, relishing how wide they got with each shambling step. "I hadn't done it in years; trial by fire works well enough for me, I guess."

Iain finally reached the man's head, and he knelt down carefully, feeling every bruise forming on his legs and ribs as he lowered. He quickly rummaged through the man's pockets, searching franticly but purposefully, until he felt the cool plastic of his cell phone on his palm. Pulling it from the man's pocket, he smiled downward, winking. "I hope we can call this even. You beat the shit out of someone I care about, take our stuff, I beat the shit out of you and take it back. Right?" he asked, toying with the man as if expecting an answer. "No? Rude. Off the Christmas list."

Iain gave the man a swift left jab right into the man's nose, feeling both it and his middle finger break. He barely winced from the pain as he rose, stuffing the cell phone in his back pocket. Iain arched his back, both enjoying the release as the little 'pops' dances down his spine, and then winced from the pain from everything else in his body. "Accio wallet," he said quickly, flicking his wand. The man gave a slight wiggle as his wallet struggled to escape his pants, then finally flipping over as the wallet leapt from his back pocket into Iain's hand; Iain swiftly rummaged through it, grabbing a wad of twenties and tens out of the fold, and tossed it back, enjoying the little 'pat' it made as it landed on the man's back. 'For the metro,' Iain had said. He turned and looked back down the alley where the man had came, wand held surgeon-steady at his side. He remained there, almost uncomfortably long, until he was sure no one else was going to follow suit, then turned and scampered down the alley, skirting the puddles and hugging the familiar safety of the shadowy walls.

The man watched him go, locked in the cold rage of his inability to move and the shock of what had just happened. There's no way he could go back to Dennet and tell him that this punk had not only gotten away _again_ , but had used some kind of trick, some kind of demon shit to do it; he wouldn't just be looking at getting a beating himself then, but probably left tied up on the tracks of the orange line waiting for a train to come barreling down. But strain as he might, the man couldn't escape his invisible bonds. He watched Iain disappear into the shadows, and the last thing he saw was him whisper something over and over, pointing the stick at his fingers and ribs, which snapped back with an audible pops. Then he was gone.

* * *

Iain snapped awake, alert and tense. The beaten up, subtly graffitied metro car rocked a brutish back and forth, just enough to give a serious rumble, but not enough to jostle anyone from their seats. It didn't do anything to help Iain's headache, though. His whole body throbbed a painful rhythm, a mean-spirited cadence whose very beat seamed to give the proverbial finger to his developing migraine. It was lucky that this was the longest, and last, leg of the trip; he had been in a tense, adrenaline-fueled sensory overload walking back to the first station, wand held up his sleeve, prepared for anything. He groaned as he shook the exhaustion from his head, and scratched his beard out of habit. Fine powdery flakes fell to his lap; _Christ, I need a shower_ , he thought. His skin felt sticky and flaky, covered in dried sweat blood as well in more than a few places. He wondered if he'd simply be snagged by the cops on the trip home for looking like he'd just fed a family to a meat grinder.

A cursory glance around the train car affirmed this- the almost aggressively apathetic nature he had enjoyed from people on this leg of the Blue Line train was replaced by worried glances from the adults and snide comments from the youth in the car, just loud enough for it to be heard and still seem clandestine. He wasn't surprised, really. He would probably put down a couple of those twenties he grabbed to bet that he looked just as bad as he felt- possibly worse, smelling like used fryer grease and month-old trash, covered in mud and alley viscera as he was. _Plus it reeeally hurts to breathe, and I'm pretty sure that can't be good._

The conductor came over the broken loudspeaker, barely getting out "Stadium-Armory Station" before being lost in the garble of static as the train slowed. Iain stood using the rail beside him as support and tried the back cracking maneuver he had done after the fight, but it seems that his back wasn't coming out of its hunched over, crone like pose anytime soon, and it hurt like hell anyway. He shuffled his way over to the doors as the train stopped fully, chuckling to himself as the people in the couples seat by the door leaned away from him in thinly-veiled disgust. As he stepped through the doors, he waved a goading muddy hand at them as the train pulled away again grinning crookedly.

The station was quiet, only the sounds of the trains and intercoms played of the sterile-grey domed concrete walls. During the day, this station would be bursting with people- businessmen ignoring the kids trailing around them yelling insults, blue collar workers resignedly trudging their way from train to train, shouting "left side!" if you didn't clear enough room on the escalator, homeless people muttering to themselves while wandering the platform then suddenly bursting out in laughter, or shouting, much to the alarm of others on the dull beaten platform. Iain was grateful for the unusual silence as he hobbled to the escalator.

As he neared the top, noise finally broke the calm. Iain heard hurried, agitated whispers on the level above him; he silently drew his wand from his sleeve and softly cast the incantation for the Confundus Charm he had been studying on his jacket, threw its hood over his head, and prayed it worked well enough. The men barely noticed Iain as he walked briskly past them, painfully hiding his limp. _Well, living with an Auror has its perks_ , he thought smiling, as the men went back to their clandestine whispering, peering down the hall. Iain took the chance to duck into a corner and cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself before shifting his pace to a shuffling speed walk, pausing only to gingerly take the stairs up the last leg out of the station. He jogged then, sharp ragged breaths fighting against his swollen chest, until he reached the fence around the skatepark across the intersection from the station; Iain instinctually found the wider room between the fence poles that he'd used so many times before and slid through to his typical hiding spot. He aimlessly wandered the darkened grounds, thankful for a chance to be (somewhat) at peace, then laid down on the grass for a well-deserved breather.

A loud crack snapped behind him. "Mates of yours? On the train?" a voice asked, and Iain hackled in anticipation, letting out his umpteenth hiss of pain for the evening.

"What, the people I waved at? No, just wanted to make their night as memorable as mine." Iain snapped, turning his head to Ted. "Didn't know you were down there waiting for me."

"That's what a Disillusionment Charm's for, if you remember. You should work on yours more, by the way; you're semi-transparent."

Iain ignored Ted, continuing his beratement. "And I'd appreciate it if you stop fucking Apparating right behind me; it's bad enough that you did it in public, or really everywhere, but especially when you know I jump at it. Plus, I feel like I just got run over by a bus, so the jumping doesn't exactly feel amazing."

"Jesus, man, don't get all shirty about it; I like a good laugh at your expense every now and then. Bet that chav you met tonight's doing worse than you anyway." Ted ribbed conspiratorially.

"Wait wha-"

"Putting a Full Body-Bind Jinx on a Muggle in an alley? A low move, that is. And sod off telling me to watch it in public after your shite tonight." Ted said curtly, feigning hurt while flicking a bit of lint off of his sleeve.

"He knows?" Iain asked, sighing sadly.

"He gets paid to. Plus, it doesn't hurt that he's actually pretty good at his job. Not sure what he'll say to you, though. I would say Ginny'd leather you with a hex, but lets be real- she's going to shred those eardrums of yours before her wand even comes out." Ted said, soberly. "So what was it, thought you'd go cruising again tonight hoping to find them and start something? Retribution? Thought you'd get in your fun and test out Obliviation?"

"That's- what the hell, man? You think I wanted to get the crap kicked out of me? You think I'd be stupid enough to pull my wand on a Muggle on purpose?" Iain seethed, unconsciously locking on his target to unleash all of tonight's rage at. "Yeah, 'cause a 25 to life sentence in Pullworth is really want I want after getting away by the skin of my teeth. Sorry, no Muggle-baiting today, just good old-fashioned magical assault and battery and of course probably breaking the Vow of Secrecy. That's exactly what the fuck I had on my schedule tonight, how observant of you!" Iain spat, giving Ted the finger and putting some 'umph' behind it.

"Whoa, mate, you need to calm down before you get a nosebleed. I was just taking the mickey out of you- I know you wouldn't jump into it with these guys again willingly, especially not with your wand."

"Tell that to the Venelegem Court." Iain said, darkly.

Ted sighed. "Seriously, how did you even get near those blokes again? After the first time I thought you'd put at least a couple bus stops between you and them, mainly with him barely get you out of jail time before with the self-defense charge. Now, it's-"

"Just shut up. I was walking home and they jumped me for my phone, alright? They didn't even recognize me, I think. Nothing like last time, and I didn't go fucking looking for it." Iain hissed witheringly. Ted got the hint and nodded, and sat against a concrete pillar abandoned in the yard beside Iain's patch of grass.

Iain didn't move, though. The night's events kept playing through his head on a loop, getting more vivid with each passing go; he couldn't see any way of doing it differently at the time, but now a million different options to escape the fight without using magic jumped out at him, and this only infuriated and saddened him more at his own recklessness.

Iain could hear it ring in his head. _'You've bollocksed it up again',_ Ted's favorite phrase to toss Iain's way, kept rattling around in his head cementing his feet to the floor. Had he really just had the final match before he was out for good? There's only so many times you can cry self-defense before other, more credible people have to start saying it for you, and when that's run its course…. Well, you're just shit out of luck then. And he'd pulled his wand in public _on a muggle_ , jinxed him, and then scurried off; there's no way that guy's not going to run off to his other brute buddies and tell them what happened. _And that asshole'll shoot me next time he sees me. No chat, just bang. If there is a next time. Fucking perfect._ The probably wouldn't let him see Lily again after this- hell, if the lawmen got involved, he probably wouldn't see anyone again.

Ted jogged back over to Iain and waited, trying to decipher what was running through his head. He slowly circled him, prodding him with a finger like a child playfully poking at a sleeping pet.

"Come on. We'll figure it all out. We always do, right? Big Guy was meeting people about it before I came to get you, and he has that whole 'diplomatic immunity' thing going for him; He can toss some of that your way. Only good part about being in the States, I'd gather. Plus you look dreadful- if there was anyone down here you've effectively scared them all away with your Black Lagoon look."

Iain finally broke from his fugue, looking numbly at Teddy Lupin. His wiry frame, purposeful gait, what could only be described as mischievous swagger, and sly face with it's permanent smirk, as if Ted knew a joke that no one else had known and was dying to share it with you, always had a habit of warming the hardest of Iain's moods. Ted met his gaze and smiled warmly, patting the bigger man on the shoulder and leading him to the escalator.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm so sorry about the delay in posting the second chapter; with the ridiculous holiday season and with expanding my business, there hasn't been time to sleep much less write. Expect a chapter every week, at the latest a week and a half.

 **Characters/themes from the Harry Potter universe remain the trademarks of J.K. Rowling. Use is strictly of an inspirational nature.**

 **Chapter Two:**

 **Break Even**

"Because it's un-bloody-acceptable!" Ginny snapped, brandishing a chef's knife in her left hand and her wand in her right, her face almost as flush as her flaming hair. Iain didn't know which was more terrifying. Ginny wouldn't hesitate to leather him with a well-placed jinx, and Iain paled as she raised her wand fully expecting a whallop of her long-infamous Bat Bogey Hex. He exhaled though, only slightly, as she quickly cast a _Muffliato_ around the room then fixed him with a weary stare.

"I understand. Really, I do. Seeing someone you care about getting hurt is enough to drive someone mad beyond relief. Remember, Harry's been well beyond that point in his career- hell, I've been, too, if going back to my school days. But you know every time you go looking for a fight it only escalates, yes? I'm not saying this time around there won't be hell to pay, but you won't be getting off easy."

Iain nodded, not taking his eyes off the floor. He bit his tongue to stop himself from raising protest; Ginny had bent over backwards, more than once, to help him manage the oddities his life occasionally belched forth, so she more than deserved her say. Plus, Iain still wasn't sure there wasn't a hex coming his way before the night was out.

"Good." Ginny said with finality, flicking her wand with a quick _Finite_. "Listen, we wouldn't go through these paces with you if we didn't care. You're twenty six, it's not like you can't make your own decisions. Just try to let us help, ok? Wonderboy will work his magic up there, no pun intended, and hopefully you'll finally learn from this go-round."

"Yeah, maybe this time…" Iain sighed, to tired and sore to push the matter forward. He slowly straightened up in his chair, hoping his back would be the worst punishment that he'd receive tonight, and looked at Ginny smiling lightly to let her know the message had been received. She had, however, turned and set her knife back to chopping and was wholly absorbed in taking things from and then refilling the oven, living up to their pet name 'Hurricane Ginny.'

Iain held his breath again, but out of a different set of nerves; _Ginny goes baking crazy when she's super worried._ Iain quickly and quietly gathered himself out of his chair and tiptoed his way toward the stairs in the back of the rowhouse the Potter family called "home" when they were called across the pond on business. It being so late at night, thankfully most of the family was passed out in their beds- the last thing Iain could take tonight was a snide comment from Al about "beating down the Devil's door" _again_.

As an extra measure, Iain mouthed a Silencing charm on his shoes and the notoriously creaky stairs before climbing; he'd snuck up one evening a few years back to have a clandestine drink with Ted and had given his "idea" a try. Knowing Ted was a prankster only rivaling Loki in ferocity, Iain should've known that the Featherlight charm he'd placed on his shoes would only affect the charmed object in particular, not let him bound up the stairs in one leap. He'd jumped and his shoes, the feet still inside, had shot up and he had laid his body out on the stairs, smacking his head against the bottom and knocking him out cold. He and Ted had received a patented Ginny tongue-lashing only after he'd been checked for a concussion, though that did nothing to quell Ted's cackling.

Making it to the top of the stairs, Iain moved at a quick low crouch until he reached the door to Harry's study, straining to hear the muffled voices coming from inside. A hand suddenly shot from the shadows, and Iain caught himself from shrieking and giving the whole bag away as Ted came slinking out of the darkened corridor, hand firmly attached over his mouth to keep from doing the same with his hearty, barking laugh. Iain punched Ted in the arm, hard, to save face. Ted however, wasn't too upset; rubbing his shoulder slightly, he leaned into Iain's ear.

"Fine, don't take my little gift. I was going to let you use it as a peace offering from earlier, but I'll just take my business elsewhere…"

"Fine, sorry." Iain, quickly apologized. "Whatcha got?"

"Don't let anyone tell you the three WWW's aren't good for anything! Knicked the prototype before we left for the States; George is probably going to fire me for real this time." Ted held up an item that was well known to the whole Potter family; a pair of infamous Extendable Ears. These however were different from the kind Iain was used to; instead of their usual flesh coloring, they were a light, almost metallic blue. Also, Iain found it odd that instead of having a second ear attached, there was only one specific unit, oddly shaped like an ear itself, but with a longer, thin strand sticking from the top ending in a small teardrop of metallic blue.

"Wait, what the hell is this? What's different?" Iain pushed, both curious as to George and Ted's newest invention, and anxious to get the act of eavesdropping underway.

"Can't believe we didn't think about it before. You remember that eyeglass thing the Muggles had before it died out? It connected to their interwebs thing?"

"Oh yeah, Google Glass? That hooked up to the internet with your phone to let you view information on the web while actually looking at the thing itself. All run on Bluetooth, I think." Iain answered.

"Uh, yeah, I guess that. Well, turns out the Muggles had a decent enough idea- easy enough to make magically; just add a certain Protean Charm to a transmitter like the one I hid on Harry's bookshelf, and the receiver is charmed to channel audio through the ear when its put on your own." Ted beamed, obviously more than excited to show off his pet-project. "The eyepiece is pretty brilliant as well; just place it on your own- no, it doesn't feel as odd as you'd think- and the mirror inside is charmed with receiving visual. Gotta love the Minitry's private communications contracts! It's still a little spotty, but it should do the trick."

"That's… That's frickin' awesome, actually." Iain breathed, floored.

"Damn right it is," Ted joked. "Hang on. _Notintias Proponos."_

The Ear Mark 2 briefly glowed for a bit, then started squawking shrilly like an angry bid. Ted cursed under his breath, and quickly reached for his wand; yanking to quickly, the wand tip caught on the edge of his jeans' back pocket, causing it to flip out of his hand and clatter to the floor. The voices suddenly stopped as if catching notice of the noise, and both froze instantly save Ted, who quickly squashed the still-chattering Ear to his chest to smother the sound. Time froze for what seemed like hours before they heard Harry speak, his voice seeming almost too loud and engaging to be entirely genuine; Iain guessed the game was up and Harry knew they were just outside, but had saved them the shame of being discovered by forcefully reengaging the conversation. _Great_ , he thought, _something else he's done for me when I've screwed up._

Ted was frantically scrabbling across the floor in front of the door, trying to locate his wand in the dim lighting; Iain opened his hand palm-down and Ted's wand lept lightly into it. Tapping Ted lightly on the shoulder with it's tip, Ted scrambled back to his feet and quickly accepted the wand.

"Thanks," he whispered. " _Finite."_ The Ear quit mumbling into Ted chest; "I mispronounced the bloody spell. Was never very good at pronunciation. _Notitias Proponos."_

The Ear glowed a deeper blue this time, humming for an instant then giving off a softer, more normal-sounding imitation of what was transpiring in the room beside them.

"Thanks." Iain said, accepting the Ear from Ted and fastening it over his own.

"No problem." Ted replied. "You need to show me how to do that sometime."

"Sorry, don't know how I do it. Just happens." Iain responded, trying to fasten the teardrop over his twitching I-don't-know-about-this right eye.

"Oh, dogshite." Ted retorted.

"Sorry." Iain replied, noncommitedly.

"Fine." Ted shot back while Iain still fiddled with his eye fighting the eyepiece. "Arse."

Suddenly, Iain's vision became uncoordinated; thinking he had popped to somewhere else in the house, he flung his hands out in front of him to check his surroundings, unintentionally smacking Ted in the cheek.

"Oy!" Ted hissed. "Just close your other damned eye! Honestly…"

Iain took his advice, and suddenly his disorientation made since; while the image was glazed over and hazy, he nonetheless was now seeing the conversation take place inside Harry's office from the odd vantage point of the tall bookshelf behind Harry's desk. Iain instinctually leaned in closer, hoping to catch a better "view" of the scene playing out in front of him.

Byron Talbert was older, maybe late middle aged, with hair graying on the sides making his post-military style buzz cut even more apparent. His face was lined with age and the weariness of the late hour, but more so with experience; Iain guessed that this man had seen more than his fair share of action and had settled for desk work as a much needed breather. He sat back in Harry's plush leather guest's chair, enjoying the comfort Iain thought, for precisely that reason. His jacket had been tossed leisurely over the back, showing his crumpled white button down and loosened tie and leather chest harness to which a badge and leather gun holster were attached. _Thank God, he's mugg-_ before the thought could finish flashing thought his mind, Iain noticed the thin leather holster attached to his right wrist. Iain's heart almost stopped pumping when he noticed the thin strip of worn dark wood sticking from the front. _Damn damn damn damn damn…_

"We Obliviated the man in the alley obviously, but fixing his broken nose snapped him out of fugue. We had to immediately re-Obliviate, but even taking those couple of seconds off right after the initial procedure is probably going to have him dazed for a bit. Luckily he's had a run in with us a few times before with some bar brawls and minor possession charges, so one of our beat guys cast a Sleeping Charm and tossed him in the drunk tank for tonight. Easier to explain it away when he wakes up. Better for paperwork at least." Byron intoned flatly.

"Makes sense. At least this was an easier mess." Harry responded, but Iain couldn't be sure what the inflection behind it was; Harry's face was obscured by the angle of the transmitter.

"All in all, yeah. Doesn't mean I won't have a migraine come morning. Two of the crew he runs with was out looking for him as we got to the alleyway; we were lucky to have a second to throw up some Muggle Repelling Charms, but we didn't have time to efficiently calibrate them. Ended up deflecting traffic on H Street and some cabbie ran into the Streetcar. Backed up traffic for hours."

Harry sighed. After a moment, Iain held his breath- Harry had asked the big question. "So, what goes on the report in regard to Iain?"

"That's the hard one to answer." Byron scratched his stubbly chin, deep in thought. "To be honest, after the last little, uh, episode with these guys we won't be able to just throw this one off. We didn't have to fully book him last time because we were to busy playing clean up-"

"Honestly, I've said this officially in writing and I'll say it again now; Iain didn't have his wand on him when searched, and my daughter was attacked. Spontaneous magic can occur under extraordinary circumstances-"

"Yes it can, but _wandless_ magic is a different story. The curses on the victims were to exact-"

"There was no indication-"

"My detectives found to the contrary and you know this." Byron said, slowly, clearly, and sternly. "Two Muggles stunned, one permanently blinded in one eye, one hit by a vicious semi-Bone Breaking Hex, and the main perperator winged by a Reductor Curse, removing an arm. That's not spontaneous magic, Harry. The only reason we didn't bring him in immediately was because we couldn't find his wand on him, and when we found it down the corner the _Priori Incantatem_ came up negative for those spells. After tonight, that bag of cats will more than likely be reexamined in full."

Iain could practically feel the frustration radiate off the unseen Harry. A quick glance to the side had Iain thinking Ted could as well, but Iain's insight was quickly dashed. Ted was looking at him, ashen faced; he had heard that there was a scuffle with some Muggles, that Iain and Lily had both been beaten and robbed, Lily was separated from Iain, and that he had fought them off until the cops showed up. Iain had thought Ted had assumed Iain had used magic, but Ted had apparently heard the last little morsel of next doors conversation and had put two and two together.

Iain moved to say something to mollify Ted's reaction, but Ted shuddered and took an involuntary step backwards. He couldn't blame Ted's reaction- Iain had known he'd done wandless magic, but the only thought running through his head at the time was to grab Lily and book it as fast as his legs could carry them. He didn't know the extent that he had gone to to achieve this aim, though, as Harry had understandably held that bit of information close to his chest, apparently for Iain's benefit. Iain was pained immensely by his friend's reaction, but made no further move; he'd have time after this to explain everything. He hoped.

Sighing, Iain turned his attention back to the study. Harry was up by his small wet bar across the room from his oak desk, apparently giving himself a second to think as he refilled Byron's rocks glass with bourbon and added a splash of firewhisky to his own untouched drink.

Harry delivered Byron's refreshed drink to him and sat back down heavily in his chair, leaving only his fingers to be seen tapping pensively on the rim of his glass, the light from the bankers lamp playing off the glass and jumping around across the piles of papers cluttering the desk.

Harry sighed. "So again, Byron, how does this affect Iain?"

"Honestly, that's up to him." Byron said plainly. "He's already expected in court for a statement on the first issue, but after this I doubt even your diplomatic immunity umbrella will be able to shade him indefinitely. Think about it like he's violating parole; that usually has a more swift and forceful response than the initial arrest. If he were to come in and make a statement about what happened to facilitate the process, that might make things go a bit more smoothly. However, don't discount the possibility that he might be tried in the Venelegem officially after this."

Harry tapped twice on the rim of his glass. "I trust we'll be made aware of any developments as they happen? We won't get trapped in the red tape and strung about?"

"As soon as I know, you'll know." Byron said sincerely. "Hell, I don't want to do this. Honestly, I'm on the kid's side; fucking gangbangers had it coming if you ask me. But justice will be served and all that."

"Understood." Harry stood, his head and shoulders now visible. The conversation seemed to be concluded, for now at least.

Byron's tone and vernacular shifted, veering more away from a seasoned law enforcement professional to someone sharing stories with a comrade in arms. "Listen Harry, I'm sorry about the late hour intrusion. Like I said, I'll keep you abreast of any changes and maybe next time you'l be able to put away that drink." Byron chuckled, grasping Harry's hand in a firm handshake.

"Thanks again. By the way, if I know my wife she'll have and industrial gross of something or other waiting for you downstairs to take to the kids." Harry said, with a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Nah, kids are with Maria for the week- doesn't let them touch the stuff. I'll take them, though. We'll just say it's for when they get home and I'll buy new pants."

Harry genuinely laughed at that, sending Talbert towards the door. Iain started to panic; Talbert was heading- no, wait a second. Harry was now motioning at the bookshelf out of Talbert's view for Iain's attention, staring straight at whatecer Ted had charmed to transmit the signal; apparently the jig had been up much longer than Iain and Ted had anticipated. Harry did a quick single-finger tapping motion on his head, and Iain quickly got the message.

"Quick," he hissed to Ted. "Get in the shadow!"

 _Time to see if the work was worth it_ , Iain thought, pulling out his wand. Quickly tapping its point on the top of his head, he cast the strongest Disillusionment Charm he could muster, or at least he hoped. His last (and first) time casting it worked well enough in the metro to scurry past the two guys looking for him, but that was small potatoes. As the charm's strange trickling feeling ran down his body, the door's latch clicked and Iain flattened himself against the wall in the narrow corridor. Talbert was now in full motion heading towards the stairs- Iain tried to flatten himself even more flush to the wall; Ted was safely out of harms way on the other side of the doorway, but it'd be a tight fit with both Talbert, now mere inches from Iain, and him sharing the walkway.

Just as soon as Iain started to full-on panic, the moment was over; Talbert breezed by, wearingly trudging the last few feet to the top of the landing and starting down the stairs; Iain let out a small sigh, breathing out his tension. _Small miracles,_ he thought to himself, allowing a small grin. Talbert luckily didn't hear the sigh, his mind firmly on a few cookies and his ruffled bed calling his name.

" _Finite."_ Iain murmured, ending the spell. Again, he thanked his lucky stars that his charm was good enough to hide from the wizened old detective. Well, at least good enough with the combination of the dim lighting of the hallway.

Iain waited, not moving in the anticipation of what he knew would be coming next.

"Why don't you two just come inside, already." Harry called from his study. Iain and Ted made the briefest of eye contact, the broke it to stare at the floor as they both made their way towards the doorway, feeling rightfully so like scolded children awaiting a lecture.

Iain crossed the threshold. The remnants of a fire crackled in their embers in the blackened brick fireplace, throwing glinting hints of light around the room. End tables and chairs were cluttered in corners in pairs by their own half bookshelves, each filled with books of varying age and condition on specific topics, meant to be geographically specific in the room based on the subject of study. Small copper and wooden trinkets whirred and clicked, puffed little bits of smoke, or stayed silent as they adorned the tabletops; Iain (and Harry's children) has continuously asked about the purposes of those devices, especially since they'd always accompanied the family on their travels. Harry always gave a non-committal reply about Auror Intellegence and communication, but he had once let slip that "they reminded him of a mentor from his past." He had worn a sad smile as he recounted this, and Iain was wise enough to have never pressed the issue.

Harry sat wearily in his own squashy leather armchair behind his worn dark oak desk, rubbing the corners of his eyes with one hand and dangling his glasses from their arm in his other hand. Iain couldn't make out Harry's expression, both due to the playing of the fireplace's light and the mountains of papers, forms, and dossiers towering on the desk. He crossed his way over to the desk as straightbacked as he could manage through his pain, determined to show Harry that he wanted to be upstanding in their predicament.

Harry straightened in his chair, gently placing his glasses back on his face and entwining his hands before laying them on the desk, looking at Iain critically. After an almost painfully long silent staring contest, Harry stood. Making his way around the desk, he walked again towards his wet bar, stopping only to grab a couple small potions vials from his traveling kit that was placed precariously on a stack of papers threatening to collapse the end table they'd been tossed onto.

"You come on in, too, Ted." Harry tossed toward the door. Ted, who apparently had been lurking hidden right outside of the doorframe trudged his way in the room, swearing loudly as he knocked over the coat stand on the other side of the frame.

Harry chuckled; Ted had always been a little zany, but had inherited the best traits from his parents, namely their loyal fearlessness and their intelligence, thought Harry thought Ted frequently underplayed that aspect. He had, however, inherited other traits from his long-deceased parents; his peckishness increased around the full moon, causing bouts of mood swings and a serious hungering for raw, red meat, and he had also inherited the rare and useful skill of being a Metamorphmageous from his mother as well as her legendary clumsiness. Thus, for all of his strengths, skills, brains, and talents, Ted would be expecting to knock things over for the rest of his life.

Harry threw this, that, and the other into a rocks glass as Ted straightened the coat stand and made his way to Iain. Harry chuckled again as Iain gave a yelp, and he heard Ted reply, "Oh, is this seat taken?" He grabbed the now steaming glass and walked calmly back to his desk, depositing the drink in front of Iain.

Iain took it in his hand, confused by the chilly vapor pouring from the lip in contradiction to how warm the glass was from its contents. "What's this?" he asked, quizzically.

"A proprietary blend," Harry said plainly. "Equal parts of Calming Drought, Pepper-Up Potion, Pain-Away, and a dash of bourbon. Hate the stuff, but you looked like you could use a bracer after tonight's little escapade."

"Ah, that." Iain sighed. "I'm guessing you know all about it?"

"You know I do." Harry replied. "You heard it all." He tossed the charmed wrapped piece of bubble gum to Ted, who deftly caught it. "That's pretty incredible stuff, Ted. Tell George if he doesn't sack you the Auror Department might be getting in touch with him once we get back home. Won't work against silent motion Wards, though, just so you know, and I'd pick something less conspicuous next time."

"Will do, Cap'n!" Ted saluted, trying to add some levity to alleviate some of the slowly mounting tension in the room. It was short lived.

"So you heard my and Detective Talbert's conversation. Where do you think we should start?" Harry asked Iain civilly, letting the young man have his chance to start.

"Honestly, I don't know what to say. I've been thinking of ways to qualify what happened tonight and I… I… can't." Iain replied, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Well, we should start with another Muggle being either in the hospital or police custody tonight by the same young upstart wizard, who this time knowingly used his wand against said Muggle in an empty, but not unheavily populated Muggle area. We should also consider that said wizard used his wand to fire a jinx at said Muggle, which can create conclusive and inadmissible evidence in court when the wand is tested." Harry stated, professionally yet pointedly. Iain winced.

"Also, it should be noted that the Muggle involved in the incident was a member of the local gang from the first incident, inciting a possible motive for causing another incident so quickly after the first. Drink your potion."

Iain did so, was now starting to get more than a bit unnerved by the direction of the conversation. Also, he was starting to get more than a little peeved by Harry's seemingly condescending tone.

"With a court date coming up with the possible charge in question being Muggle baiting and breaking the International Vow of Secrecy, tonight's escapade could be construed as not only revenge-based, but also malicious magical accosting of a non-magical being-"

"Now, hang on-" Iain protested, the red mist pushing out the newer calming effects of his potion.

"BUT, drink your potion, as I received this news from Detective Talbert I immediately asked what the provocation was for the incident; I was informed that under interrogation before he was Obliviated that the Muggle in question had mugged said wizard and wasn't content with simply taking the personal affects when the wizard started to physically protest. The wizard ran, the man followed, bested the wizard physically, and had the tables turned on him only after the use of magic was a necessity. Thus, I advised in my professional capacity that without the use of magic that the incident in question could've turned much worse much more quickly, resulting in a homicide squad doing the questioning instead of a breach detective. Our mutual observation that this, while definitely impactual on the wizard's first charge, should be considered self-defence."

Iain gulped, wide-eyed. _Wait_ , he thought, _I'm not going to jail tonight?!_

"Until I was alerted mid-conversation by my wards, which confirmed that a previous breach, obviously by our Ted here, was factual and interrupted me from my train of thought." Harry said, allowing a wan smile. "I just wanted to tell you in a professional capacity so you'd get the full gravity of what was being discussed."

Iain finally let loose his tension from the night in one massive, ragged sigh, feeling a little deflated but more hopeful than he'd felt in weeks.

"So they're not going to wait until I've fallen asleep and then drag me away in cuffs?" Iain asked, pressing his luck.

"I should hope not," Harry grinned. "Those potions are expensive; I'd rather seem them put to full use."

"Good, I didn't want my wrists to be sore on top of everything else." Iain considered.

"Too right. I think you feeling a bit sore is punishment enough for the next few days." Harry said bluntly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely disappointed, and more than a bit royally pissed, but you've dodged a proverbial bullet this time."

"Ok, can I ask the tough question?" Iain chanced, hoping Harry had the energy left to trudge on.

Harry sighed heavily. "I knew you'd heard that part… I can't say too much, Auror privilege and all, but what do you want to know?"

"So I'm not getting carted off tonight, sure, but honestly could I be later? I knew I hurt those guys after they pulled me away from Lily, but I didn't… I didn't… mean to hurt them that badly." Iain choked out, betraying his years- voicing those very palpable fears, he seemed more like a terrified child asking about monsters under the bed.

Harry recognized those signs immediately, being on the brunt of them himself more times than he cared to count. He quickly stole a page from his old friend Hermoine's book, crossed to the front of the desk and knelt down in front of Iain, hands on his shoulders and looking him square in the eye.

"Listen to me. People have done far worse unintentionally with spontaneous magic, especially under duress; granted, your magic was a little more 'on target' than other cases but I'm my professional opinion still falls under the same category. To give you a light warning, though, I'd desist from using any dueling spells before your hearing; me taking you under my wing in the Auror department was never 'official' so to speak, so anything more than the basics could probably be used against you. Have a chat with your barrister about it."

Iain nodded, solemnly biting his lip, deciding whether to ask the question that had been eating him for weeks.

"Ok, out with it." Harry said in his most fatherly tone.

Iain started to speak, then clammed back up again. Harry didn't push him; Iain would have to let this out on his own.

"I... uh... Listen, I'm still not sure what happened. They pulled me away from Lily after I started fighting back and they beat the crap out of me and I saw them drag her to the middle of the alley and start to get down on top of her and..." Iain choked out, the untold events (from his perspective) pouring out of his mouth caustically, as if they burned his mouth while saying them.

Iain quieted down again, a dark thoughtfulness creeping in behind his eyes.

"I freaked out. I don't know what I cast or where, but it took me back to... before. Something like that happened when I was younger to the only person I could call a 'friend' and everyone got hurt." Iain said, clinically. Both Harry and Ted (who had been soaking up the conversation in the other chair, unsure if he should speak) where left aghast; out of the Potter tribe, Lily had been the only person to see glimpses of Iain's past, and she'd refused to speak a word of it without his permission.

"The thing that really scared me after the WP took me to you was that... I _wanted_ to hurt them. Maybe because it reminded me of before, but I really wanted them to suffer, to feel the same pain and fear they were causing her. If I could just do that, they might stop. I just wanted them to stop..."

Iain clammed up again, seemingly for good this time. It didn't escape Harry's notice that Iain's eyes were glistening; he was consciously trying to fight back tears, squeezing his empty potion glass so hard Harry was worried the young man's hand would shatter it. Harry decided to divulge a little truth of his own if that was what was needed to bring Iain back from the brink.

"I know you've heard bits about it, but in my fourth year when Sirius- my godfather, died when we were in the Department of Mysteries fighting a whole squad of Death Eaters. Just us kids fighting hardened killers who were unattainable of using Unforgivables on children for their master. Curses flying everywhere... Of course I didn't know any in any serious capacity, but even when we were attacked on all sides o wouldn't have cast anything close to as dangerous as what we were receiving. Then the Order appeared, the battle intensified, and Sirius was struck. I lost my senses; I ran straight after Bellatrix and struck her from behind with a Cruciatus Curse."

Iain and Ted both gasped, the latter having heard the tale before but still being enthralled, and Iain being slowly brought from his stupor by the intensity of Harry's conviction telling it.

"She crumpled." Harry continued. "I thought I had hit her with everything I had, but she immediately rolled over and looked at me. I was told, by someone whom I don't care to mention again, that you 'have to mean it.' I had thrown all my rage and grief into the curse, but _Crucio_ is emotionally based; it not only takes rage, but a _desire_ to inflict that kind of pain. I'd wager that the reason the worst thing that group got was a glance from a Reductor Curse was for the same reason; your other spells were spot on, so if you really wished them serious harm, that man's chest would've been on the wall behind him, not still intact."

Iain crumpled in his chair. Harry had (mostly) put to bed Iain's biggest fear- that due to his "troublesome" past that he'd have no problem letting that out on people who crossed him like that night, that he'd lose his temper and accidentally kill someone instead of thinking rationally.

Ted finally spoke up. "Listen mates, I don't mean to gum up the convo, but why am I here?"

Harry fixed his gaze on Ted, knowingly. "Well, Iain started with the hard question, so I'm ending with the hard suggestion. I think he should reconsider your offer."

Iain immediately broke from his fugue to start protesting, but Harry interrupted him. "I'm not saying that it's mandatory. I'm saying that's it's exactly what it is; a suggestion. It's helped me, Ted, Ginny..."

"Fine." Iain grumbled. "I'll think about it."

"A serious consideration?" Harry asked, a bit more stern.

"Yes." Iain said, his weariness finally beating out the Pepper-Up Potion's effects.

"Good. Now I think we all should be getting to bed, if I can drag Ginny away from the oven that is." Harry said, trying on some levity. Ted cracked a smile; though Iain had been a part of the Potter household for years, Ted knew just how far Grandma Weasley's genes ran.

Iain stood with the rest, his full exhaustion and lingering aches seeming to give his body more gravity than it normally possessed. As he maneuvered around the desk and stacks of papers towards the door, another thought ran through Iain's mind.

"Harry," Iain called, interrupting Harry from dousing the last vestiges of the fire in in the grate. "I'm sorry, but I had one more question."

"Shoot." Harry indulged him.

"Well, two actually. About the wandless magic…"

"Yes, they'll probably want to know how far your skill are with it naturally. After the first incident, their interest was rather untastefully peaked." Harry said regretfully. "Another reason why Ted's suggestion could have benefit; you could make that admissible in court if you desired, as long as you felt ready to share."

"Understood." Iain reluctantly admitted. "I just… I don't know with my salary-"

"Nonsense." Harry said firmly. "I said it when Ted first mentioned it, and it still remains; if this is something that can help you, it's not a question of payment."

"I still don't feel good about it, if you'd let me-"

"No." Harry said, refusing to budge. "Please, Iain, let me do this for you. For helping Lily."

Iain sighed. "Ok. Thank you, seriously, Harry. That also… um…kind of leads into my second question…"

Harry's eyes darkened for a moment, then he shaked his head, apparently quelling whatever thoughts had begun to take root.

"I know what you're going to ask, and honestly I'm still on the fence about it." Harry said slowly, but earnestly. "I still want to be angry with you for putting her in that position in the first place, but it's not like you caused it. If you want to continue a relationship with her, far be it from me to say no to what she wants. Just… With everything going on, please be careful. For her sake."

Iain suddenly felt weightless. He was certain Harry would immediately shoot him down; however, he had not only just received the inverse of his worst fear, but had even gotten something akin to forgiveness (something that he still had not been able to do himself).

Iain nodded his agreement to Harry, and exited the room as nonchalantly as he could.

* * *

The only light leaking into the rowhouse now was the light pollution coming from the Eastern Market neighborhood a few blocks away, but Iain found his way to the tiny bathroom in the hallway for his evening wash. Tossing his glasses on the porcelain countertop, turned on the tap and splashed water on his face hoping to scrub off the grime.

Again, his face startled him. From Harry's news (especially the latter part), his spirits had been lifted but it did little to relieve the _weight_ his face now showed. It's as if Iain had aged years in hours; bags forming under his eyes, his hair hanging thinly over his forehead, greasy from tonight's sweat.

Shaking the rest of the water from his face, Iain toweled off, turned off the lights, and quietly padded back down through the hallway to his old room; Harry had given warning that they'd given it a thorough cleaning out, but Iain was assured his bed was still there for good measure.

Reaching the end of the hallway, he felt around in the dark for the doorknob, trying to force his eyes to focus through the darkness. He couldn't help noticing the tiniest amount of light peeking out from the cracked door a bit further back down the hall. He started moving towards it; he knew exactly who's room it was, and just one tiny peek at her sleeping would give him the tiny amount of happy encouragement he needed to sleep through the night.

Trying to belay the squeaking of the old door hinges (Silencing Charmed so often that the layered spells had lost their effect), he opened the door as quietly as possible, sticking his head inside, despite the fact she'd joking call him a "creeper" once finding out. Lily Luna Potter lay snuggled deep under her bedsheets, curled into a loose ball, fast asleep. Iain knew it well, as usually that position had his body curled around it as they slept. He soaked in the peaceful sight; the shining red hair against the pillow, her lithe yet sinewy frame woven through the bedsheets, the heavy freckling running down her arms on contrast to her pale, luminescent skin, her back slowy expanding and contracting until he noticed the shivering in-between breaths. Lily started to tremble, arms twitching in what appeared to be a vivd dream, then visibly shook as the dream took a wrong turn until she convulsed, throwing the sheets off her body and shooting up, yelping and frantically scanning the dark bedroom.

Iain rushed to her bed, dropped to his knees, and took her arms in his hands, causing her to yelp again.

"Shh, shh, hey, it's me, i'm here, shhh…" Iain soothed, holding her tightly and reaching up to smooth her hair. "It was just a nightmare, you're ok…"

After a few seconds of soothing, Lily seemed to snap out of her fugue and notice Iain gently holding her arms. "Iain…" she quietly wailed, pulling him into a fierce embrace and crying into his chest. "I… I was…"

"I know, hon, I know…" Iain crowed, holding her to him, gently rocking back and forth. "It was a nightmare. You're ok now."

Lily regained a semblance of composure. "I.. I was back there. With those men… They were taunting you, crowding around me, then their faces… went all red, and their voices got really low, and snakes started crawling out of their mouths…" she recounted, shuddering again. Iain involuntarily chuckled out of habit- Lily had a very fluid, 'proper' English accent ("Cambridge," her aunt Hermione has said), and it's clipped, chirpy nature always had him cracking up when they fought, usually causing both to descend into fits of laughter; her frightened voice seemed to have the same inflection. He caught himself immediately, but Lily still noticed. She frowned at him.

Iain held her closer, rubbing her back reassuringly. "Well, it's over. Gene Simmons' snake friends can't get you when you're awake." Iain joked lightly.

Lily pulled from the embrace to much him playfully on the arm, even without understanding the reference; she knew when Iain was teasing her.

"Seriously, though," she somberly continued, "it was… not the first time I've had this dream. It always seems to be longer than the last time, and it keeps getting worse until it wakes me."

"And it's…them, you said?" Iain asked, flatly, not to keen on rekindling tonight's conversation with Harry.

"Yeah, but…I don't know. It's hazy." Lily mumbled, shaking her head as if to clear the memory.

"You've been having them less and less recently; you think they might be finally dying down?" Iain asked.

"Possibly. I'm not waking up sweating bullets every other night, so thats a plus." Lily admitted, sighing out her tension and pulling in Iain again for a tight embrace. "Ugh," she said as pushed him away. "You smell like shit."

"I know, I need a shower." Iain sighed, begrudgingly. "Things got crazy tonight. You'll hear all about it at breakfast, I'd imagine. Don't worry about it."

Lily didn't press it. Seeing Iain's exhaustion and beaten visage left her with plenty of questions, but she could wait a few hours to pester his with questions when he was a little more alert.

"You ok if I go to bed?" Iain asked, sensing the end of the conversation.

"Yeah, I should be fine. Don't have much longer before my alarm goes off anyway, so I'd like to capture what's left of my evening." Lily joked.

"Fine, shoo me out the door…" Iain replied, grinning slightly.

Iain gave Lily a small, lingering kiss, then rose from the bed and started to make his way toward the door.

"Hey," Lily called. " _You_ going to be ok?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Iain lied. "Love you."

"Mean it." Lily gave the customary reply, grinning as she nestled back under the covers.

Iain stepped outside of the room, closing the door gently, then padded his way to his almost-empty room. He caught sight of the lonely bed and crawled into it, not pausing to take of any clothing as he wrapped the sheets around himself. Finally, he drifted into a fitful sleep.


End file.
